Necromancer
by Tyrfing1827
Summary: "You always told me that life goes in one direction. I just realized… You never told me that there was an end to all of it." He laughs. There is no humor, just a broken voice belonging to a broken man. "After all, you've just been lying to me my whole life. You hypocrite." AU, Character Death


**Necromancer**

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**07.**

The sun shines brightly as if mocking the mourning figures in black clustered together. They are gathered in front of lowering casket, which contains the dead old man. His final resting place is in the royal grounds, the only place that proves the existence of the old country that once thrived.

A red haired man approaches the gravestone after the service is over and kneels down in front of it.

"Gramps..." His voice breaks, and he chokes tears back.

"You always told me that life goes in one direction. I just realized… You never told me that there was an end to all of it."

He laughs. There is no humor, just a broken voice belonging to a broken man.

"Wherever you are now, Gramps, I hope you're happy."

The sun sets, and the grave is devoid of people. White lilies, placed gently in front of the stone, wilt slowly.

_Jade Balfour_

_May he be recalled in loving memory_

_The Necromancer_

A whisper is lost in the wind.

"After all, you've just been lying to me my whole life. You hypocrite."

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**06.**

An old man sits back in his chair, sighing deeply as his old joints creak and ache. A ray of sunlight falls over his weary form. Afternoon light was the best, after all, the warmest and most calming to his old body. The cat meowed before trotting over and jumping in its master's lap, causing a surprised grunt.

"Saphir…" He groans. "I'm not as young as I used to be. Get off, you lazy furball."

In response, the feline merely curls up and closes its eyes. The moment of peace is broken as the front door slams open and a red haired child runs in, sobbing.

"Gramps! Gramps!"

The cat is pushed out of the way, hissing angrily as its spot is replaced by the tearing young human. It sulks away while the boy cries in his grandfather's shirt. His sobs subside after a while. The old man's bones groan as he sits up and comforts the child.

"What happened, Luke?"

"My… my friends said that you were going to die soon," he sniffed. "I don't want you to die! Gramps, you're the only family I have left!"

The elder chuckles, eliciting a pout from Luke.

"Gramps!"

"Don't you worry, Luke. I'm not going anywhere yet."

Piercing green eyes from the youth look up and meet his ancient grandfather's. Luke doesn't want his gramps to go anywhere. His friends (or were they really his friends? They were so mean… but they helped him a lot too, and they were funny) had said that he had to go to an or-fan-age if he didn't have any family living. But his gramps just said that he wasn't going anywhere. And gramps was never wrong, so…

Luke wipes the rest of the tears away.

"Yeah, and even if you do die, the Necromancer will bring you back for me, right?"

A shocked silence fills the room before the old man bursts out in guffaws, leading to a fit of coughing.

"My dear child… I thought you didn't believe in myths?"

Luke's face turns red in embarrassment before he looks away, tips of his ears still glowing. His red hair glows as it is captured in the setting sun.

"Luke, let me teach you something," the man's rasping voice coughs once, then continues on. The boy knows that gramps always figures out when he was listening and when he was off in his own little merry world. "Life is only supposed to flow in one direction. Bringing back the dead is considered illegal for a reason. The Necromancer was indeed the greatest in the Dark Arts at the time, but it is good that his works are destroyed or missing."

"Gramps…"

"Yes, child?"

"You talk as if the Necromancer is gone now. Everyone know's that he's immortal! Just like the Elven, and the Dwarvish, and the Sprites, and-"

"Luke, other races are not immortal. They live on and on, but we are all mortal. They live and die, and return to the soil in which they were born from, just like us pitiful humans. The Necromancer is only mortal as well."

Luke's face remains skeptical. He frowns.

"Really? Then how do you know if he's dead or not?"

His frown deepens as grandfather doesn't answer. Merely chuckling, the old man falls asleep as the sun disappears over the horizon.

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**05.**

The Necromancer is a legend. They say he brings the dead back to life to those who grieve, though there is always an exchange. One never finds him; he finds you. They say that even now, he is wandering the lands in search for another soul to bring back to the world of the living.

They say he has been wandering since the country's rulers were killed and the other human country took over, ruling with an iron fist and wiping out all evidence of the previous.

They say he has been wandering since the great General Largo the Reaper died protecting the last of the royal family descending down from Emperor Peony the Ninth.

They say that he is still wandering around to this day, though news of sightings have turned out to be false more often than not.

They say that he wanders the earth searching, searching for the meaning to all the destruction he was wrought.

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**04.**

As the dreary and cold winter progresses, blizzard after blizzard pushes into the empire. Jade leaves the queen to rule the country as he figures out to bring a person back to this side with all their memories intact. He isn't going to sew together a random soul into his friend's body, nor is he going to find the emperor's soul and bring it into another body.

This is going to be a careful job, his most strenuous yet.

It has been three months. The grief was still all too apparent in Nephry, though she hides it well while facing her subjects.

The Necromancer steps into his Art Circle and activates it with a chant, not noticing the odd angle on the dodecagon failing to glow the correct shade of deep purple.

The sun runs down the sky outside, far from the explosion that goes off deep under the palace, far away from the toxic gas that races through the building, far from the many people that fall, eyes closed, bodies seemingly asleep. Nephry's last thought as her eyes closed were the last words of her husband.

_"I'll be waiting for you, on the other side."_

There is only one survivor.

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**03.**

It is autumn and the crimson leaves are falling, dancing, as the greatest emperor the country has ever known dies.

A whisper to his beloved is his last words before he breathes his last breath.

Nephry wouldn't cry. She had a country to rule. Alone. The weight of that word seems to be heavy, heavier than she thought even though she knew that her dear husband wouldn't live past the age of forty.

Jade is there, as always. For once, he is somber and quiet, mourning with her. His eyes, once a soft brown, have turned red, much like the ones the elves have. It's a side effect of casting a spell too many, and many in the empire fear him for it. Despite the numerous whispers of demon following the lieutenant general, Nephry knows that there are always those who accept the man for who he is.

The early afternoon sun shines through the large windows and throws their shadows onto the opposite wall.

As she leaves the room, head held high, Jade mutters under his breath.

"I keep my promises."

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**02.**

It is summer and the sun burns the ground as the war rages on.

No one knows why the Elven had suddenly charged their borders, destroying town after town. According to witnesses, the invading country isn't even bothering to loot them, just setting them on fire and moving on. It is an insult to Largo's country, if anyone would ask the titanic general.

Not that they would, of course. Even his own men stay far away from him and his scythe. On the battlefield, he is known as the Reaper for a good reason.

Well, none of them save one.

Colonel Jade Balfour is a genius tactician, taking the battlefield and turning it into his personal game, where the rules were to his advantage and his fallen and injured soldiers seem to come back to the fight quicker than they can be gotten rid of.

And he seems to enjoy spending time with Largo.

"In your opinion, General Largo, how long do you think the war will last?"

They are sitting in a large fort, with many other high ranked officers gathered around and chatting quietly. Largo runs a hand through his greying mane before replying in a baritone.

"Not much longer, I believe. Our emperor leads us well."

The young colonel smirks slightly, almost nostalgically.

"Indeed. Who would've guessed, little Peony growing up to become such a good leader?"

Largo raises a thick eyebrow. He thinks back to watching the two boys squabbling in the library about some trivial lesson, to the first few months of Emperor Peony the Ninth's rule. Those are not a pleasant memories.

"Her Majesty Nephry forced His Majesty Peony the Ninth-"

"Please, General, you and I both know that you knew Peony for a longer time than I did. I do not think that the emperor would mind us speaking casually."

Being admonished by a lesser ranked soldier is like a fresh wind to him. Largo laughs.

"Indeed. Young Lady Nephry smacked young Peony around until he finally came to his senses and realized what he had to do for his country, forced as he was to rule on it. And until he figured out his true feelings for her."

Largo looks out the window and up at the sun, nearly at the peak of its travel through the sky.

"May the emperor have a long and prosperous rule."

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**01.**

It is spring and the flowers are blooming. A blond boy calls out as he wanders in the expansive garden, braided hair flopping around.

"Jaaaade!"

He frowns in annoyance. Why did this place have to be so big? Oh, right, because it was the palace's garden, and anything other than grandiose was below standard for the royal family. Still though, the very least they could've done while designing this place was-

"RAH!"

He'll still deny it to this day; he does NOT scream like a little girl. The other boy, this one with brown hair, smirks arrogantly as he doesn't bother to hold out a hand to help the boy he just scared to death. Looks like Jade found him instead. The blond gets up, scowling.

"You fall for it every time, Peony. And here I thought that royalty was supposed to remain calm and dignified the whole time," his best friend's voice took on a teasing tone. "Or is it because your hair is like a girl's, so you act like one too?"

"Hey!" Peony yells indignantly. His hair was a normal length for royals, thank you very much. And who was Jade to talk, with his soft brown hair hanging past his shoulders? The young noble voices his thoughts out loud.

"Yeah, well, unlike you, I make it look good," Jade smirks again as he tosses his hair over his shoulder. His voice gains a dark undertone, and Peony immediately feels an ominous wind wind blow through the cheerfully blooming garden.

"A warning: Nephry's making tea. And I would suggest hiding before she-"

"Before I what, exactly?"

Another blonde, this one with darkening curls, pushes her glasses up her nose before frowning at the two boys. Peony starts to edge away, trying to escape. A scathing look quickly stops him from moving any further.

"You two are coming with me. It is time for morning tea."

"But Nephry, it's not even midmorning yet! We still have-"

Another glare from the girl cuts him off. Behind him, Jade sighs in resignation. Peony knows when a battle is lost, and trudges unhappily after the two as they head back to the palace.

The two are seated while Nephry elegantly pours them steaming tea.

"Posture," she snaps towards the slouching Peony. His back immediately straightens.

Jade sips his tea elegantly. Peony sighs. Really, his friend was more of a girl than he was, hair included.

"Anemone?"

Who else could tell the type of tea just by a sip? Sometimes he was really jealous of his genius friend.

"Stop sulking and drink," Nephry snaps at him again. "The tea is getting cold."

"How rude," he whines, draining his cup. "What if an assassin slips in tomorrow, and the last memory you have of the great prince is his unrefined posture? Shouldn't you compliment me more and look at my good points?"

"What good points?" She doesn't even look back as she pours another cup for him and shoves it under his nose.

"Peony won't die," Jade smiles as he looks up, brown eyes twinkling merrily. Peony feels a rush of gratitude towards his friend, which is quickly crushed by Jade's next statement.

"Idiots don't die. And even if he does, I'll just bring him back. I haven't been studying the Arts for the past few years for nothing, you know."

Nephry looks at him, conflicting thoughts written over her face. Peony knows that she knows necromancy is considered a Dark Art, and though not illegal, frowned upon by the state.

"…Do you promise to bring him back? Pinky promise? Remember, you'll have to eat a thousand needles if you break it."

Peony's eyes soften. Nephry is, after all, still young. Her innocence has remained untouched by the many corrupt nobles for years, and if he and Jade have anything to say about it, it will remain that way.

"Yeah, pinky promise."

It's soft moments like these that bring up a rush of warmth to Peony's chest. This is why he's happy in this palace, usually devoid of positive emotions.

Well, it would be better if they weren't discussing his death.

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He is loved, he is hated. He is welcomed, he is spurned. A pinky promise over china tea cups when the sun was still rising made him what he is. He is the Necromancer.

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**AN: Now read it backwards. :)**

**This was inspired by that little kid in St. Binah. You know, the one that asks Jade if he knows the Necromancer, and asks if the Necromancer will bring his father back. **

**Anyone that has read the TotA manga and has seen the Peony and Nephry gaiden ships those two. Myself included. It's just so sad...**

**AU because I felt like it. Please drop a review on you way out!**


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